


And the Room Requiring Redecorating

by 1221bookworm



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 07:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13782582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1221bookworm/pseuds/1221bookworm
Summary: The Librarians in Training have to paint a room.  Let's just say that their skill set may not make them the best team for the job.





	And the Room Requiring Redecorating

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I wanted to do a short story to play with all the different accents the LiTs have, and since I happened to be painting when the idea was born, the Librarians came along for the ride.

"What is this?" Eve walked in to what could only be described as a bigger mess than Flynn's desk. And that was saying something.  
Jones popped up from behind a bookcase that used to be against the wall but now stood blocking the door. "It's the reading room."  
"I know that." Eve picked her way around one bookcase to find a desk blocking her route, topped with two chairs. "Why does it look like the aftermath of"  
"A tornado?" Jones offered helpfully.  
"That works." Eve had finally managed to pick her way through the maze of shelves to face him. "I thought librarians would have more respect for books."  
"Not me, mate." Jones held his phone out to her and shook it. "Digital age." He stuck it back in his pocket, then jerked his thumb at the room. "This stuff's just taking up space if you asked me."  
"No one asked you." Stone was carrying a pile of plastic sheets, which he dropped next to a chair piled with books before turning to Jones. "These are first edition copies, manuscripts even."  
"And they're all ebooks now. I can carry this whole library on my phone."  
"Don't start." Eve held up her hand to forestall Stone's rebuttal. "Please explain to me why these priceless," she held up her other hand to silence Jones, "artifacts have been distributed helter skelter through the room?"  
"It's not helter skelter." Cassandra came in, sounding annoyed at the accusation. "The shelves are arranged to allow maximum airflow through the entire room."  
"OKay, and we want maximum airflow for?"  
"The paint to dry." Jenkins carried in several gallons, stacking them near the door. "This room has needed sprucing up since the library returned. Actually," he paused, reconsidering, "I'm quite sure it's needed a new coat of paint since Mr. Carson has been the Librarian."  
"But, since Flynn isn't here, we've got the job." Jones snatched up a roller and waved it in the air.  
"Woah." Stone grabbed it and placed it back on the pile of supplies. "We won't be usin' that for a long time." He slapped a sponge into Jones' now empty palm. "We start by washin' the walls."  
"And I have the tape." Cassandra pulled off a strip of masking tape, smiling at the sound of the tape separating. "You want to know my favorite part?" She attached the tape to a random section of molding on a nearby wall. She didn't wait for anyone to respond. "It's pulling it all off at the end and getting to admire the nice, straight line where paint meets wood." Her hands illustrated her point as she smiled at the wall.  
Slinging his arm over her shoulder, Jones said, "You don't get out too much, do you?"  
"Knock it off, Jones." Stone bumped Jones with his elbow. "Cassie takes pleasure in the little things."  
Cassandra opened her mouth, but Jones spoke first. "Ahh. The little things. I'll remember that."  
"If we could get back to the project?" Eve decided it would probably be best if Cassandra didn't get an opportunity to answer that. "These walls aren't going to paint themselves."  
"Precisely, Colonel Baird." Jenkins inclined his head, and she returned the gesture. "Now, we need to start by removing any loose paint, and repairing any cracks or holes that have accumulated over the time when no one - Mr. Jones, what exactly are you doing?"  
"What?" For once, Jones didn't look like he was up to something. "I'm opening the paint. That is what we're here for, right?"  
"In theory, yes." Jenkins took the paint can and placed it back on the stack. "But, as I was just saying, there is a multi-step, vitally important preparation method that must be followed to ensure proper -"  
"Jenkins, are we paintin' it over the same color?" Stone interrupted the curator's lecture, winking at Jones.  
"Well, actually no, we're going to be painting it -"  
"A much brighter color." Cassandra cut in. "My research shows that a lighter color will compliment the natural light in this room, and better lighting will result in less eye fatigue and better memory function." She ticked the reasons off on her fingers.  
"So, that means we'll be goin' with primer and two coats of paint." Stone ran his hand along the wall, feeling the texture of the plaster, talking more to himself than the group. He addressed Jenkins again. "Paint on here's already pretty thick, we'd be better scrapin' it all off before repaintin' it." He turned back to the wall, still talking. "That's why this paint is in such rough shape. Centuries of paint, don't allow the plaster to breath properly."  
"What's a few more on top then?" Jones asked. "Besides, I'm not scraping paint that's hundreds of years old. Who knows what could be in it? Lead, poison," he shrugged. "The list is endless."  
"Ezekiel's right." Cassandra spoke slowly. "Without a thorough analysis on the paint, we won't know what kind of toxins we'll be dealing with. Ones that may have strengthened or deteriorated over time."  
"See? Brain grape agrees. I saw we cancel the entire project and order pizza. Who's with me?"  
"Some help here, Baird?" Stone wasn't going to let this one go easy.  
"I'm sorry, Stone. They're right. But, I will help you on it if," she paused for emphasis, "You can prove it's safe."  
"Fine. I'll be back." Stone knocked a piece of paint loose and walked out with it cupped in his palm, muttering about how people didn't appreciate the care you need to take to preserve a building's integrity.  
Jenkins moved to the spot in the wall that was now the color of dull plaster. "This is not good." he touched his fingers to the hole, pulling his hand back as he'd been burnt, then continued to observe it with his arms crossed. "Do you realize what this means?" Eve's own blank reaction was mirrored by Jones and Cassandra. "We can't cover this. To make it match, we'll have to scrape the paint off every inch of wall space. Literally hundreds of hours of labor."   
"I'll fix it then." Jones disappeared, returning with a tube of toothpaste and a roll of toilet paper.  
"I don't think that's going to work." Cassandra shook her head as she watched Jones place both items on the floor before examining the wall. "Oh. I have a better idea." Now it was her turn to rush out of the room. She came back with an ornate picture frame, filled with a portrait of Shakespeare.   
"If we just hang it like this," she leaned it against the wall, "No one will ever know."  
"Yes, but Miss Cillian, we cannot simply cover the problem. That is not how we solve our issues."  
"I can't leave you alone for five minutes?" Stone was back, staring at them as if they were the ones that created the damage.   
At least Jones and Cassandra had the decency to look embarrassed.   
"It's not toxic." Stone stalked to the wall where he had taken his sample. "But I did some research. Due to the age of the building, we shouldn't be takin' the current paint off. It'd expose the plaster to humidity, and the only way to prevent that would be to seal off the room, and ensure the new paint is applied within exactly thirty minutes of the old paint being removed." He glanced back over his shoulder at the rest of them. "I'm sayin' we don't have the tools to do it properly."  
There was a collective sigh of relief. Jenkins was still displeased. "However, Mr. Stone, we still have the issue of the hole created by your," Jenkins paused to purse his lips, "Sample."   
"I'm not standing here all day while you figure out to fix a hole you created." Jones emphasized his point by pointing at himself, then at Stone. "Either you let me fix it, or I'm out."  
"You're goin' to fix it?" Exasperation filled Stone's voice. "What does a thief know about a hole in the wall?"  
"I'm Ezekiel Jones, and I'm a master at making things look like nothing happened. Move aside, mate."   
Stone threw up his hands, marching over to the pile of drop cloths and wrestling with the top one.  
"I'm not sure we should leave him alone with that." Cassandra tried to catch Stone's attention, pointing to where Jones was doing something. His body blocked the view.  
"He can't fix it. Let him try." Stone managed to lay the cloth out flat.  
"Aand, done." Jones turned around with a grin.   
"Come on, Jones, you're pullin' my leg." Stone came back over, obviously ready to tell the younger man how he had failed. "What did you do? Where did it go?"  
Even Eve couldn't believe how well the wall had been fixed. Even knowing exactly where the patch was, she couldn't spot it.  
"I'll just add that to my resume. Master wall repair." Jones patted Stone on the shoulder. "I'd say we could go into business together, but I've already got a job."   
Stone was still spluttering over the wall. Eve decided it was time they started painting before any more disasters were created. Or worse, the clipping book activated, and they went on their next mission covered in paint.   
"Let's get this show on the road." She picked up a drop cloth and flipped it into place in front of the door.   
Jones moved back to the paint cans, immediately starting to open them, while Cassandra began taping on the opposite side of the room. Jenkins stepped up next to Stone to examine the wall.   
"I don't believe it." Stone was still running his hand back and forth over the wall.   
Jenkins touched his hand to it as well before turning away. "I think, sometimes, Mr. Stone, we are better off not knowing some things."   
Stone's mouth twitched in resignation before moving away. "Jones, what did I tell you about the paint."  
Eve sighed, going over to referee before Jones used the paint as a weapon to defend himself. "We can all work nicely now."  
With a last glare, Stone grabbed the sponge and began wiping down the walls as Jones poured the paint into a tray and began rolling it on. Eve had to prevent another near fist fight as Stone insisted Jones was doing it wrong. She sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

********** ********** **********

"It looks great." Cassandra was enthusiastic about the results when they surveyed the finished room.   
Eve nodded, picking at the paint that was stuck to her hands. "It should."  
"It looks like a lemon." Jones was less than impressed. "If anyone asks where to find the Library, just tell them to follow the yellow glow."  
Stone's breath hitched as he attempted not to laugh.   
Jenkins inclined his head with a slight wince. "I do think the color is a bit bright."  
Cassandra rolled her eyes. "That's because the yellow is all you're looking at. Once all the bookshelves are back in place -"  
"We won't need our sunglasses?" Jones raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for her response.  
"Next time we need to harness the sunroom, we won't need mirrors." Stone pointed to the walls with his chin. "This is bright enough to amplify it."  
Glaring at them both, Eve put her arm around Cassandra. "I think they need a bit more convincing on the color. Why don't you and I go back to the Annex, while they clean up the brushes."  
A round of groans and complaints didn't stop her from leading Cassandra out of the room.   
When the three men finally joined them in the Annex, they were covered in paint. Apparently, Jones had decided to dry the brushes by beating them against the sink base, splattering yellow water everywhere. Mostly on Stone. Jenkins had managed to avoid the worst of it.   
Eve surveyed them, shaking her head. "I don't think we should attempt any more painting projects."  
Cassandra looked down, trying not to laugh. "I guess we aren't very good at it."  
Jones shrugged. "We may not be painters, but we make excellent Librarians."


End file.
